long sleaves and broken smiles
by ComicSans1221
Summary: Frisk has a hard life on the surface. one day, she decides she has had enough. but climbing up that mountain will change her life in ways she could have never expected. (Prologue)


I sat in the back of my lecture, my professor was droning on about math, or chemistry, I couldn't really tell anymore. I had eyes only for the clock that was slowly ticking past the end of the hour. My chest tightened slightly as I realized I might be late. No, I couldn't be late. I grabbed by books and ran out, ignoring the disapproving stare from my professor. It was raining slightly, but I couldn't care less. I had to get home, and do my chores, start dinner, if I didn't... No, I couldn't anger her again. My arms throbbed slightly at the thought. I crossed a street, only glancing up briefly to look at the mountain that loomed over our town. The legends of the mountain flashed through my mind, how those who climb the mountain never return. How easy it would be to disappear, never come back. But all those thoughts flew from my mind as my stomach dropped to the floor. I had finally returned home, but her car was already parked out front. And worse, another car was parked there too. That meant she had brought someone home, another man. If I was lucky, it was just a drunk looking to get laid, if it was another… No, I wasn't going to think about it. I dropped my books underneath the porch, I would have to sneak back out later for them. I opened the door slowly, maybe, if I could sneak in, I could hide in my room until morning. Hopefully, she wouldn't remember anything, she normally doesn't. I carefully closed the door, when I heard a bottle hit the wall behind me. Sharp shards of glass hit my sweater as her open fist smacked me across the cheek.

"You ungrateful, ignorant, selfish little bitch!" She spat the words into my face, slurring slightly and gagging me with the overpowering scent of alcohol. She hit me a few more times before dragging me into the kitchen

"I brought home takeout, so you can clean the entire fucking kitchen, then make yourself scarce." She shoved me into the kitchen and went off upstairs. I could hear talking and laughing carrying on floating down the stairs. Numbly, I cleaned up the old bottles and cigarette stubs. I was halfway done when another bottle came flying at me, this time smacking me alongside the head. My vison was double as I looked up to see her standing in the arms of some man.

"Danny here is taking me back to his place, so finish and go straight to your room, if you don't, I will know." Her and "Danny" stumbled out the door, and I ran down to my room. If you could even call the closet I was forced to live in a room. When I was younger, I used to dream that I was like Harry Potter, and that one day I would get my letter out of this hell. I sat on my bare mattress, and stared blankly into the floor. I felt sad, angry, betrayed, selfish, unworthy, cowardly. Numb. I opened a drawer in my small cabinet, and brought out the small baggy that contained my blades, my shiny metal friends. I took off my worn blue sweater, and stare at my arms. From my wrist to my shoulder, both arms where covered in scars. Some so old they barely showed, others still had dried blood around them. I grabbed a blade, and placed it on my forearm. I pressed down on the corner until it bit into my skin, blood pooling around the blade, I drug the razor across my skin, and for a moment, my skin smiled at me. A smile revealing parts of my arm that should never see the daylight. Then the blood welled, and started to run down my arm. I waited for the calm feeling, for the adrenaline rush that normally followed, but nothing happened. I slashed a few more times, but I still felt nothing. With a strangled scream, I threw the blade across the room and started to sob. I was tired of all the shit that I had to go through. I thought back to the mountain, where hikers are said to never return from. It would be so easy to disappear, and that sounded like a wonderful idea. I rummaged around in my closet until I found my green drawstring bag. I threw in some necessity's, including my bandages and blades. I put my sweater back on, not caring that blood was stain the sleeve. I ran out the front door, not bothering to shut it. Just as the sun was setting I made it to the bottom of the mountain. I straightened my up, bracing myself, and began to climb.


End file.
